Seventeen
Johnny Jay left me alone for what seemed like hours in the exact same room I’d been in last time, while I “stewed in my own juices.” That was one of my mother’s phrases. I had to get out of here in time for the seven o’clock meeting tonight or there would be no one to defend my bees against Lori Spandle. She’d work everyone into a frenzy and mob my house again, this time after dark when she’d be more effective.
Five o’clock came and went. Still no police chief. I tried to use my cell phone to call Holly, but there was no signal in the room. I hadn’t gotten any mandatory one phone call, either. Was that a good thing or a bad thing? The only good thing so far was that Johnny Jay hadn’t read me my rights.
I had to count on Holly to do damage control with our mother. If only Johnny Jay hadn’t made such a big deal of putting me in the back of his squad car like a caged animal. And right in front of all the sheepshead players, the old-timers, Grams and all her friends.
I continued to wait for something to happen while staring at the eagle picture on the wall and thought about Clay sitting in a cell in the Waukesha jail and whether or not I was about to join him. What a mess! And since I was innocent of any crime but sinking in quicksand in spite of that, what did that say about Clay’s situation? What if he was innocent, too?
At one point, I thought I heard Hunter’s voice out in the hall, but I couldn’t be sure.
From time to time, I smiled at the two-way mirror in case someone was on the other side, to let whoever it was see that I was calm and cool and innocent.
Sure.
Finally, Johnny Jay strolled in.
“I have to leave now,” I said, trying to keep my voice even and businesslike. “I have a meeting tonight that I can’t miss. Why don’t we get together for a talk around”—I checked the time—“nine or ten tonight. Although, tomorrow morning would be better for me. Does that work for you?”
That got him laughing. “The only way you have a remote chance of getting out of here at all,” he said, “is if you start telling the truth.”
So I did. With only a few modifications.
? Yes, I’d heard something that sounded like an argument and then a scream (truth).
? But I hadn’t realized it was anything other than a dream until right before I asked Hunter to relay the information to the police chief (modified slightly).
? Everybody in town knew how Faye had been killed. The store was a hotbed of intrigue (last sentence totally true).
? I couldn’t remember exactly who told me (major modification).
? And yes, I was perfectly willing to take a lie detector test if the police chief felt it was necessary (yikes).
? If I’d had any idea how important what I’d heard was, I would have rushed right in to inform Police Chief Jay (major modification).
I even addressed Johnny Jay by his professional name for the first time ever. Call me desperate.
“Hunter Wallace has been in here for hours trying to get you released,” the police chief finally said. “And I know he told you how Faye Tilley died, so you can stop protecting him.”
Johnny Jay tipped back in his chair and thought things over. “I’m a reasonable man,” he said. I choked back a retort. “But I wasn’t born in a barn. People outsmart lie detectors, although I doubt that you could. At some point we might have the chance to test you. In the meantime, you’re living free on borrowed time because if Clay Lane sent that e-mail, I’m going to get a confession, and if he didn’t, I’m going to find the person who did and we’re going to have an honest to goodness witness. Trust me on that.”
Yay! I wasn’t going to jail!
Johnny Jay continued, “Who knows? Maybe your ex-husband really was trying to frame you.”
“That’s what I believe, Police Chief Jay,” I agreed, politely.
“Then again, you could be his accomplice and he turned on you.”
The clock hands kept moving. The Town Council meeting would begin in ten minutes.
I shook my head. “If I was planning a murder,” I said, “the dead person would be Clay.”
“So you’re capable of murder. Is that what you want to tell me? On the record?”
Johnny Jay dinked around, playing semantics games until I wanted to deck him. Finally, he let me go. I half expected to find Hunter waiting for me outside, but he wasn’t there. Just when I was about to give up on getting to the meeting, Grams pulled up next to me, slid the passenger’s window down, and offered me a ride.
“How’s Mom taking . . . this?” I asked.
“You don’t want to know, sweetie. I’d come into the meeting and help you out, but it’s getting late for me to be driving around. My eyes aren’t what they used to be, and it’s almost my bedtime.
“That’s okay. I can handle it.”
We cruised along on the incredibly slow and jerky ride. My only hope of making it in time to state my case was if the meeting started late, which it almost always did.
This time was no exception.